Secret Obsession (Carder Texas Connections #6)(66)
For the past twenty years he’d trained every day and it was paying off now as he pulled himself up from branch to branch. Still, it was taking almost everything he had. By the time he got near the top, he was breathing hard and sweat ran down his back. He looked down. It was too dark to see the ground but he’d been keeping a rough count in his head as he’d moved from branch to branch. He had to be at least sixty feet in the air.
He untied the sleeves of his coat, unwrapped his flashlight and focused it on the car that was at a thirty-degree angle to his left, still at least fifteen feet above him. The view was impeded by branches that poked up against the car. The driver’s side was toward him but from his vantage, he couldn’t see her.
“Okay, I’m close,” he yelled. He put his jacket back on so that he didn’t have to hang on to it.
“Great,” she said. He could hear her better now. He caught an edge of self-deprecating humor, as if to suggest that it was nice of him to stop by.
She’d been lucky, although he doubted she’d appreciate hearing that assessment right now. The rear axle of her car had been snagged by a thick spray of branches and that had stopped the fall. Unfortunately, the front of her car didn’t have much support. One wrong move and it was going to go end over end, stopping only when it hit the ground.
“How much do you weigh?” he asked.
“One twenty-five.”
Pretty slim. Hopefully pretty agile.
He studied the car and the branches holding it in place. It was hard to see where one tree ended and another started. He edged out farther, tested his weight on a branch that crossed over, found it steady enough and switched over to her tree. He shimmied in three more feet. Now he was pretty much under her car.
Together, they’d weigh more than three hundred pounds. He didn’t know what the tipping point might be but he didn’t want to take a chance on the branches being able to hold that much weight unless he absolutely had to. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to need to do,” he said, purposefully keeping his voice casual. “I want you to crawl over the front seat into the backseat. Then open the door and start to work your way down. All you need to do is get ten feet and I’ll have you.”
There was a long pause. Finally she said, “Well, that sounds easy enough.”
He smiled, appreciating the fact that she wasn’t crying or screaming at him to do something. “Just keep your weight from shifting forward and you’ll do fine,” he said. If she didn’t do it exactly right, there was a high probability that she and the car would come tumbling down, taking him with them.
He aimed his flashlight at the car. She moved and he could see her head and chest in between the headrests of the driver’s and passenger’s sides. He figured she was crouching on the front seat. Sure enough, a leg came over, then the second one.
The car rocked.
And he held his breath.
The tree wasn’t quite ready to let go.
“How ya doing?” he asked.
“Oh, fine.” He heard the tremor in her voice. She’d be crazy not to be scared.
“Open the door. Slide out, plant your feet before you grab for a branch. I’ll shine my light so that you can see.”
The door opened and she stuck a leg out. She had on jeans. That was good, otherwise her legs would be a mess by the time she got to the ground.
She planted her foot. She was wearing loafers, which was better than sandals but not as good as boots.
“Good job,” he urged.
Next leg. She was moving slowly and she very carefully placed the second foot on the branch.
“Okay, without standing up, press down with as much of your weight as you can. See if you think the branch will hold you.”
She did as instructed. The car didn’t move.
“Now I want you to stand up, and try to make it one smooth motion. Don’t push off on the car,” he warned her, knowing that would be her tendency and that it could be disastrous. “Once you’re standing, reach for a branch. Don’t yank it, just lightly use it to steady yourself.”
There was no response, no movement. He waited. And got nervous. “Coming?” he prompted.
“I’m going with Plan B.”